Demons run when a good man goes to war. Night will fall and drown the sun, when a good man goes to war. Friendship dies and true love lies, night will fall and the dark will rise, when a good man goes to war.

« Anger is running through my vains, so fucked it's driving me insane. No health, no hope, nothing but pain. 30 years to go you said i should be the best, you said i have to prove myself, you said we're a family. 30 years ago. Stuck in the holy money game, gave me a number for a name, stole my life and kept the change. Hey man there's a riot goin'on ! »

Demons run when a good man goes to war. Night will fall and drown the sun, when a good man goes to war. Friendship dies and true love lies, night will fall and the dark will rise, when a good man goes to war.

What a piece of work is a man. How noble in reason. How infinite in faculty. In form and moving how express and admirable. In apprehension how like a god. The beauty of the world. The paragon of animals. And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust ?

so when your hope's on fire but you know your desire don't hold a glass over the flame don't let your heart grow cold I will call you by name I will share your road but hold me fast, hold me fast 'cause I'm a hopeless wanderer

This life, which had been the tomb of his virtue and of his honour, is but a walking shadow; a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

so when your hope's on fire but you know your desire don't hold a glass over the flame don't let your heart grow cold I will call you by name I will share your road but hold me fast, hold me fast 'cause I'm a hopeless wanderer

This life, which had been the tomb of his virtue and of his honour, is but a walking shadow; a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

Lay down your sweet and weary head. Night is falling, you have come to journey's end. Sleep now and dream of the ones who came before. They are calling from across the distant shore. Why do you weep? What are these tears upon your face? Soon you will see all of your fears will pass away. Safe in my arms you're only sleeping

Demons run when a good man goes to war. Night will fall and drown the sun, when a good man goes to war. Friendship dies and true love lies, night will fall and the dark will rise, when a good man goes to war.

Lay down your sweet and weary head. Night is falling, you have come to journey's end. Sleep now and dream of the ones who came before. They are calling from across the distant shore. Why do you weep? What are these tears upon your face? Soon you will see all of your fears will pass away. Safe in my arms you're only sleeping

She was flitting to one side to the next, serving which ever lord or lady she fancied, they thought. Yet, Blaze lacked the wits to be a liar, and she was loyal past the point of sense. She just didn't know anymore who to be loyal to. color: #66CCCC@ ALASKA.

Lay down your sweet and weary head. Night is falling, you have come to journey's end. Sleep now and dream of the ones who came before. They are calling from across the distant shore. Why do you weep? What are these tears upon your face? Soon you will see all of your fears will pass away. Safe in my arms you're only sleeping

When the Skaalds come after you, they never stop. They can run for hours, ride for days. They barely eat and rarely sleep. Sigrid, like the wolf, has learned to hunt from birth. It’s part sense, part instinct. She can read the terrain, search for signs of passing, run her quarry to ground and close in for the kill. Now, she hunts us. Now, we are the prey. CODE COULEUR : #605289

She was flitting to one side to the next, serving which ever lord or lady she fancied, they thought. Yet, Blaze lacked the wits to be a liar, and she was loyal past the point of sense. She just didn't know anymore who to be loyal to. color: #66CCCC@ ALASKA.

What a piece of work is a man. How noble in reason. How infinite in faculty. In form and moving how express and admirable. In apprehension how like a god. The beauty of the world. The paragon of animals. And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust ?

so when your hope's on fire but you know your desire don't hold a glass over the flame don't let your heart grow cold I will call you by name I will share your road but hold me fast, hold me fast 'cause I'm a hopeless wanderer